#Quora Management

[sociocosmos]

Dominate Quora with Expert-Led Strategy Sociocosmos builds your authority with tailored Quora responses that drive traffic and trust. Claim Your Quora Authority Now

[happyk44]

There is so little info around HPD, it's frustrating, I just wanna see how an atypical or covert presentation would come across and then write a bunch of stupid HPD!Piper posts about it 😩

[seofixup]

Momenul Ahmad:

CEO at SEOSiri mastering digital marketing, all while chair-less due to the remote work routine! “Marketing matters as much as relevancy. Where relevancy is important, marketing becomes a complex matter.” –Momenul Ahmad Luckily, I am here to help you overcome your marketing barriers. Let’s collaborate to outperform your competitors and elevate your business to the next level. Momenul Ahmad…

[business78654]

if you grow your business join me on quora and take more ideas and services

[074calicocat]

PEACHES & SPIT

──★ 🍑 ̟ !! Leon is too old to be going back and forth with you. so when you want to have your way with him a particular way, he really has no choice but to say yes.

cw: Di Leon x fem!reader. sub-ish!Leon. RIMMING! SHOVING YOUR TONGUE IN A (washed) OLD AND HAIRY ASSHOLE! MEN IN PINK LINGERIE! ball sucking, handjob, reader is a little shit, Leon is old and tired. the good stuff.

note: hello. @rigorwhoring @kcolrom. i'm 🏩 anon and yes I was the one sending those asks about Leon's asshole and yes this was supposed to be posted on Monday. moving on. this probably sounds really janky by the end so either I hope you find this okay or you find this laughable. either way I had fun writing this, shoutout to Quora for the insider scoop about rimjobs. and for @rigorwhoring I hope you know that you're an incredibly talented writer and I love reading your work. happy early father's day!

Vulnerability is not Leon’s forte. 

So when you’ve been pestering him with questions for the past half hour, he’s rightfully anxious. 

“Have you ever fucked a guy, Leon?” You’re supposed to be sleeping, but instead you’re lying on his chest like an oversized cat, absent-mindedly staring at his screen as he tries to scroll through Facebook. Ever since you’ve introduced the app to him, he’s suddenly developed the nosiness of a bored housewife.

“No. I haven’t.” He sounds a little crabby as he responds, but the words “guys” and “fucking” don’t bode well in his mind. Makes him think of blond hair and a particular scar on the lip. Which could mean nothing. It does mean nothing and the last thing he wants to do is talk about it with you. 

But unfortunately, you catch onto his dismay, and before he knows it, he’s nose-to-nose with a frowning you. 

“You sound defensive.”

“Am not.” And now you have him frowning. Pouting like a petulant kid. 

“Am too.” You raise an eyebrow at him as if to silently sass him, the wisp of a curious grin on your lips. “Are you into guys?”

“No.” ….Not really. 

“Are you into butt stuff?” you ask and so casually too as if you asked about the weather. It catches him off guard, and now it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow, only with half the sass. “Assfucking or anal or whatever they call it?”

“Yeah…no, not-”

“Liar.” It’s a good thing age has given Leon patience. “I have psychic vision. The spirits told me you want a fist up your ass,” you giggle out in such an innocent voice he has the mind to whack you on the head. But that’s domestic violence. And that’s bad.

He retorts, “Are you two?” as he pushes you away, having you sit upright. “And besides, why’re you asking? You wanna fist me?”

“Rim you, actually,” you correct him so smoothly that you manage to surprise him again tonight. So either you really are a psychic or you’ve gone through his search history and found the bookmarks to his favorite porn videos. Hey, he knows what he likes, so he’s sticking to it. And yet- 

“Absolutely not,” he declares, gently pushing you off of him and sitting up on the bed. Unless you’re magically in a rut or going crazy, he has no idea why you’re bringing this up. It’s honestly a little creepy. 

And of course, you’re whining, “Why not?” in his ear, coming up behind him as you rest your chin on his shoulder. “It’s meant to feel good for you. Please? Lemme give you a rimjob, it’ll be fun. Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”

“It’s April.”

“Early Father’s Day gift.” It’s like you’re trying to kill him. Because, despite all his protests, he can feel himself stirring to life under his sweatpants in the most pathetic way possible. He can’t see your face, but he can already imagine your shit-eating grin. “Please, just lemme do this one thing. We always do what you want to do. I can only pretend to be your daughter so many times before it gets boring.”

“Alright, alright.” Leon forgets how immoral his kinks sound when he’s not balls-deep inside you. “I’ll…sleep on it.” “Yay!” You kiss him on the cheek like he just promised you a pony, and all he can hope for is that you’ll forget about this with a good hour of head and some matcha latte. 

It took you two days to convince Leon to let you give him a rimjob, but it took two weeks to convince him to let you do it while he wears lingerie. 

It’s clear Mama didn’t raise a quitter. Sure, you got on your knees and throated his dick for two whole hours but it was so worth it. Also crying and wailing helped at the end. Because now you have him on the bed in pink lingerie that you picked out to your taste: a soft pink bralette too small for his (begrudgingly) fat tits and a garter belt with stockings; no panties so you’d get the perfect view of his cock flushed and weeping against his softening abdomen. You got The Leon Scott Kennedy in pink lace stockings. No one will ever understand how immense this victory is for you. Just the sight of him all dolled up with his coarse hair poking out the fabric can bring world peace. 

“…Uhh? I don’t think I wanna do this-”

“How many times are you going to say the same thing?” There’s a beat of silence between you and Leon after you cut him off, mainly because you have his legs over your shoulder and your face hovering over his ass. His asshole, to be specific. You’re already here, and he wants to chicken out, no way.

“I feel like you’re worried for no reason,” you continue with a pout, jutting your lips at his tempting pink hole. Not the lightish pink like the tip of his cock, but a little darker. Still a tempting sight, no doubt. It’s not fair, why does it look so…cute? Absolutely unfair. “I’m not going to bite you. Relax..”

Leon doesn’t seem convinced, given the fact that he has even more wrinkles on his face compared to before. But you have a sneaking suspicion he only feels that way because he’s the one who used to have you in the mating press and not the other way around. 

He looks so scared, it’s adorable. Leon reminds you of a hamster sometimes. 

“You look good, Leon,” you reassure, lowering your face to press a lingering kiss on his inner thigh. God, if you had a dick it would’ve blown up from hard it would be. Even with all his wrinkles and greying hair, there’s an unmistakable feminine charm to Leon that you want to drag out. “You look pretty, okay? I love you.”

And something is so soothing about the way Leon’s face relaxes a bit and his eyebrows unpinch. At the end of the day, you really want to do this for him. Is it gross? Maybe. But you know it will be so rewarding making Leon fall apart on your tongue for a change. 

So he nods and swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing at his throat. There’s still worry there, a tinge of shame on his face. You want that face gone by the end of the night. 

You start slow. Dragging your tongue over the flesh of his thighs and ass, taking note of the faded stretch marks. So cute. You kept going on, leaving trails of spit and bite marks, reminders that you were in fact all up in his butt. And you could feel him tensing under your touch, your hands firmly holding the back of his thighs. It’s like heaven, feeling the lace under your fingers and seeing that pink bralette on his chest. 

Your eyes flit back to Leon and, oh gods, he looks perfect. Eyes unfocused and cheeks rosy under all his silver stubble. You don’t waver in eye contact with him when you raise your face enough to start making a mess. Slobbering and laving your tongue over his balls, why are they so fat and big? And sensitive too, because you don’t miss the way he whines ever so softly under your breath when you graze your teeth over them. They sit so nicely in your mouth, so well behaved as you suck on them one at a time. Modesty is out the window for you and him because before you know it, your tongue is against his hole and his knees are pressed to his chest.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck-” It slipped your mind that Leon was pushing forty and that there was a (small) chance he’s never been folded like this. Oh well!

And honestly, all you tasted was Irish Spring, a hint of musk, and…hair. Could be worse. Leon gives you head so it’s your turn to do the same. You can feel that the rim of his hole is all puffy as you give it a few kitten licks, lost in the way his body jerks to get closer to your mouth. Slut. You always knew he was into these sorts of things. 

And that only spurs you on. You pull back to spit on his hole and there it was. He straight up moans and his head is thrown back against the pillows, the bra on his chest threatening to snap off with the frantic rise and fall of his chest. You dove back in with vigor, not holding back with the theatrics as you made out with his ass. It’s doubtful that this is a pretty sight for him but you don’t ever want to stop, pushing your tongue past the rim and feeling him clench down on you. 

Spit. Irish Spring. Musk. Leon. It’s like his ass is the gateway to his heart because you’re sucking on his hole like it’s the last thing you do. Like his ass is his face and you’re kissing him like all couples do in their wedding pictures. 

Which reminds you to start dropping hints that he needs to propose to you soon. You can’t keep doing this without a ring, you fear. 

Leon, Leon, Leon. He lies to you, but it’s okay. You know he likes this, you hear his hiccuping whimpers bouncing off the walls and his body trembling. And how helpful of him to hug his own legs to his chest, leaving your hands free to wrap around his cock. The poor head is leaking precum all over his abdomen, smearing into his thick happy trail. So much for not wanting this. You run your thumb over the drooling tip, your free hand idly playing with the thin straps of his garter belt. 

Drool’s pooling down your chin now and you’re dimly aware that your jaw is starting to ache like a bitch. Makes you wonder how Leon can go at this for hours but then again, he never shuts up so it must come naturally. No other reason. His dick presses into your hand like it’s beggging to be touched so you oblige, slowly pumping his length to hear him sing. 

But unless the sound of a dying animal was singing…Leon wasn’t. No, it sounded like he was in pain with the way he gutturally cried out, nails ripping at the silk around his thighs. It almost freaks you out, but you don’t get the chance to pull away because before you know it, he nearly breaks your nose from how violently his body jolts and his load is painting your hand. At least now you know why Leon ended up working for the government instead of casting couches. His moans were less than pleasing. 

But that, in its own way, is endearing to you. You finally pry your face away from his ass, admiring his hole now puffy and slick with your spit. He’s breathing heavily on the mattress, finally letting go of his legs as you rise from the floor and wobble to your feet. The stockings are torn up under the welts and his bralette has rubbed his chest raw, red lines prominent among his pale skin and tufts of silver hair. And his face makes you wish he could be on the cover of Playboy. There’s a bit of drool ebbing down his lips, his eyes are shut, and his lips are a little bloody from how hard he’s bitten them. 

“And you said you weren’t going to enjoy yourself,” you tease, bringing your cum-stained hand to your lips. Your tongue darts out to get a taste and you make a mental note to tell him to lay off the whiskey again. 

And all he does is groan, turning over to his side and curling up. Like a cat or some other domestic animal. Cute. Makes you feel a hint of pride knowing you’re domesticated Leon Kennedy enough to tongue-fuck his ass. “Legs hurt. Cramping. My fucking ass crack is wet.” 

“Don’t complain,” you tut, making your way to the dresser and pulling out some wet wipes to clean up your hands. “I know you liked that. You sounded so….passionate.”

“Just get me out of this shit.” Someone doesn’t sound entertained. So you finally crawl into bed and lie down next to him, and almost immediately, his head is against your chest. You can see the way his eyes and lips crinkle at the corners, and yet he looks so vulnerable as he rests against you. It makes something in you stir, so much so your arms are around him in a heartbeat, holding him close. 

“Thought you wanted me to undress you.”

“...Later,” he grumbles. “And-uh, that didn’t suck at all. So thanks. You’re still weird, though.” And there’s that playful wisp of a smile on his lips again. Just how you like to see him. 

[bokettochild]

What type of brainrot or internet culture do you think each of the Links would be into?

Ooh! Good question! Not sure if I'm answering right but anyways! Here goes!

I feel like Warriors would be pretty distant from online activity, all told. He's a busy man and if he does have an internet presence, it's very carefully untracable to himself, no pictures, no personal data. I feel like he enjoys memes and maybe even joins groups across various sites for things he's interested in, but he never puts out anything himself. Maybe a sort of booktok kinda area though?

Hyrule would have like... the most ungodly Quora and Reddit threads ever. The internet is convinced he's going to accidentally kill himself. That said, with the revelation of him having a more dark sense of humor, I can see Rule totally vibing on Tumblr, shit-posting but also enjoying art and nature based pages.

Wild's on TikTok, probably YouTube, definitely has his own channel of him doing various things, from cooking to exploring to crafting the most ungodly creations known to man. Hyrule is a regular feature, but refuses to get TikTok himself, much to Wild's distress.

I think it would be really, really funny if Time is just a Facebook guy. Like, he COULD go elsewhere, but he doesn't care much for internet stuff, so he's good just having the basic one, and probably only got it at first so he could sign into some site for Malon or smth.

I see Wind really getting into gamer circles, though he'd totally have TikTok for random crap as well. He probably has a twitch account and what people and groups he follows are seemingly random, everything from map-making to conspiracy channels about how koroks once were humans or something (he thinks they're funny)

Twilight strikes me as the kind of guy who'd have Quora, some site for readers, and oh so much Ao3 usage! Have you seen his house? Boy loves books, and animals, and he might even have an Instagram that's mostly comprised of farm landscapes and endless cat pictures. He's mostly quiet except on the rare occasion where he gets so stoked up by what people are saying that he can't help himself and has to join in discussions (usually book related, but sometimes political or humanitarian, especially when it comes to animals.

For no particular reason, I feel like Four has the most well organized, carefully sorted out Pinterest boards known to mankind. Maybe TikTok, definitely Etsy. He likes dabbling in crafting circles, but has a pronounced presence among discussions regarding magical creatures like fae and minish. Absolutely knows all the cryptids, and maybe, secretly, enjoys creepy-pastas

I feel like Legend has a little bit of everything but generally forgets to use any of them. He's sporadic, and has his thumbs in a dozen pies that went cold years ago. He approaches internet culture like an adventure to be discovered, investigated, and occasionally fought against. When, that is, life isn't treating him the same way! He runs in circles regarding magic, science, crafts, mythos, and history and/or artifacts. Pops out of the blue with answers or a question and then never checks any threads again. He doesn't remember where he has accounts, just knows the passwords for all of them. Definitely lurks on Tumblr. His Instagram is flawless but also abandoned.Does not have Facebook though; he says he doesn't like posting his personal stuff for strangers to see and it's not like he's forty something.

Sky keeps it mostly minimalistic. He enjoys crafting stuff and maybe even some gaming, but he rarely has the energy to do more than doom scroll on whatever site managed to snag him first. He likes sending links (lol) to the rest though for anything he finds that he thinks they'd enjoy

And that's all of them!

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.1 (Dahlia) a2 d5

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 5,368

Notes: My friend Tiny said this was very Wattpad era of me, so I'm so sorry that I'm cringe, guys. She also said she loved it and I am also p satisfied w it, so. Celebrations! It's also fucking long for me, like damn. Chill. I do have some disclaimers abt this tho. 1) I have never been to a k-pop concert, I am doing my best working off of what videos, vlogs, blogs, and Quora and Reddit answers for this. I'm very sorry if it's horribly inaccurate. Also it's idealized so it'd gonna be inaccurate 2) Covid never happened in this universe! Send-offs for everyone!

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, sort of dissociating? ish?

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

“Yes, Ma, I promise I’m doing just fine,” You grunt into your phone, tucking the device between your cheek and shoulder as you juggle your groceries and try to dig out your keys, “No one has tried to mug me, I’m eating well, and the job is the same as the last time you called.”

You manage to both open your door and kick it shut as your mother replies, “I just worry about you dear. You’re so far away from us now, what if you need help?”

You waddle to your kitchen counter to offload your burdens, stretching your cramping fingers out as you go to properly hold your phone again.

“I know, Ma, but I’m sure I’ll make some friends with time and then they can help me out.” you finally reply with a sigh. You begin the arduous task of actually putting your groceries away, resigned to the fate of a functional adult.

You hear your sister bark out a laugh in the background. It’s possibly about hearing ‘you’ and ‘friends’ in the same sentence (Which, ouch. True, but ouch). You magnanimously ignore her.

“Honey, I love you, but it’s been almost a year. You have yet to tell me about a single friend.” Your Mom retorts. Again, ouch.

“I have Taylor!” You defend, slamming your fridge shut with a pout.

“Your roommate doesn’t count!” Your little sister taunts from the background. You hear your mother shush her but her agreement is implied when she doesn’t correct the little gremlin.

“He so does!” You argue, “We hang out in contexts that are not work or school, we eat meals together, and we’re even going to a concert this weekend! That’s friends! That’s best friends, even.” You sound a bit pathetic even to yourself, but the day your sister wins over you is the day you die.

“That’s a friendly roommate,” Is your sister’s amused response, “I bet you don’t even know what his favorite color is.” Your silence is answer enough, and she cracks up, laughing so hard that you hear a muted thump as she falls off of whatever furniture she’d been occupying.

Guess you’re dying today.

Your mother changes the subject to the goings-on of your hometown while your sister asphyxiates in the background. You’ve only been away for a little under a year now, but as you listen to her talk about which of your littlest cousins are starting school and which of your relatives are causing drama, you realize that it’s already been a little under a year.

You flop onto your couch as your mom babbles away, holding back an existential crisis.

Your fingers begin tracing the long-since memorized lines of your soulmark over your clothes as you ponder the passing of time, fully zoned out of your mother’s gossip. Your sister seems to catch on to your long silence, interrupting you mother to pester you into giving her more material to taunt you over.

“What concert are you going to, anyway?” She questions.

“Oh, it’s a K-Pop group called Stray Kids,” You tell her. You can practically feel her interest shrivel up and die as soon as you say K-Pop, bless her elitist, snobby, little heart. “Taylor likes them a lot, and his boyfriend dumped him last month, so I got some good tickets to cheer him up.”

Your mother coos at you briefly before your sister overtakes the conversation again, “Are they even good?” You can hear the sneer in her voice as she falls into Music Snob (tm) mode, so you roll your eyes when you reply.

“They’re fun to dance to when I’m doing chores, so that’s good enough for me.”

“You can’t even understand them.” She complains.

“I can, actually.” You inform her primly, “My language elective was Korean. I took the whole course.”

“You’re a weirdo.”

“Tell that to my sweet, sweet, degree, kiddo.” It’s finally your turn to taunt.

“Whatever, you’re not even going with a friend, just your roommate. How fun could it be?” She pouts back.

“I told you, we are friends! Best friends, even!”

“You still don’t know his favorite color.” She retorts smugly.

“I know his favorite flower, that’s gotta count for something!” Your mother hums in agreement, and you picture her watching your bickering like a tennis match, assigning points in her head.

“It doesn’t, because you know everyone’s favorite flower! You know the mail guy’s favorite flower! It’s like an obsession.” You picture your sister rolling her eyes at you, exasperation pouring off of her. The image makes you grin as you reply.

“Only if it’s still Jim. I haven’t been around to ask anyone new.” You point out. Reasonably, you think, but for some reason your sister lets out a loud groan of annoyance and you hear her exaggerated stomps ass she removes herself from your presence. Your mother lets out an amused little huff and you imagine you’ve won the tennis match in her head.

No death for you today. Score!

Your mom yaps with you for a little longer, before finally bidding you farewell, telling you that you should call more often (like you don’t chat literally every Friday afternoon like clockwork), tell your dad to come home soon if you happen to call him (you won’t. He won’t either), and tell her all about how the concert goes next week. You promise to do that one easily.

When she hangs up, you’re left with the ringing silence of an empty apartment. Moving to LA has been a quieter experience than you’re used to in general, for many reasons. Sure, the city itself is louder than your little suburb by miles, but life has been... More peaceful, since. Quieter.

It still makes you uneasy, even 10 months later.

You get up from the couch and drift off to your room like a ghost, opening Spotify on your way. The opening notes of Ruth B’s Lost Boy and a something nauseous swirling in your gut is all that follows you.

On concert morning, you’re woken up bright and early by your air-horn of a roommate slamming your door open.

“Concert daaaaaaaaay~” He trills at you from the doorway. You don’t even open your eyes when you roll over and throw a pillow at him in protest. A soft ‘oof’ tells you that you hit your mark for once. Nice.

“Nice shot!” Taylor cheers, “But now I have your ammo, so it’s up time.”

You roll over again, taking the edge of your blanket with you and tossing it over your head. You pull a stuffed animal under with you, and curl tightly around it.

“Nmf gmf.” You grumble at him through a mouthful of fluff.

“Nuh-uh!” Taylor tuts, already fluent in Morning Grumble, “We gotta get up. There’s food to be eaten, outfits to put on, and lines to beat!”

You let out a long, agonized, groan, but obligingly roll over and starfish out with childish protest. Taylor waits until you open your eyes to glare at his annoyingly cheerful blond bedhead before he leaves your doorway with a sunny smile. Smug bastard.

He leaves your door open too, the shit, allowing the sweet smell of french toast and eggs to drift into your room. You sit up with a whiney groan, scrubbing harshly at your face.

You’d forgive him this time. Just for the french toast.

You lean over to grab your phone from your bedside table, just waking the screen to check the time. When the numbers register you lay right the way back down with another long wail of protest.

Four in the morning. That french toast had better be fucking good.

You eventually stumble into the kitchen and are promptly handed a very large and very welcomed cup of coffee. Taylor hands you a plate piled high with french toast and eggs, fruits and toppings already out, before you can even try to start bitching at him.

You take in the spread with a furrowed brow, before slowly lifting your head to pin Taylor with a suspicious stare.

“My dude, it is four in the morning. How?”

Taylor just shrugs at you. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited.”

You nod slowly at him. “I’ll drive. You’re napping in the car.”

This triggers a round of outraged whining from your sleep-deprived roommate, which you cull by pointing out that headaches and concerts are an awful combo. He subsides but insists he’ll be even more excited in the car, since it’s closer to concert time. You tell him to do it anyway.

“Why are we up so early in the first place?” You complain as you drain the last dregs of your drink. “The concert isn’t for, like, fifteen hours.”

“The concert is only fifteen hours away! Countdowns have already started, mark my words!” Taylor counters, “You got us Soundcheck tickets! VIP! We have to take advantage! I want the entire experience. Freebies, insane merch lines, sponsor booths, everything.” He gets more and more incensed as he goes on, leaning farther over the table, his shirt almost dragging in the puddles of syrup on his plate.

You raise your hands in surrender to his wild-eyed look. “Whatever,” You concede, “You’re the boss, this is your day.”

Taylor nods in satisfaction, leaning back. You notice that he actually does take some syrup with him as he re-seats himself. “As it should be.” Is his prim reply.

You sort of just laugh at him, and your routine of friendly bickering continues as the two of you make quick work of fixing up the kitchen.

You two split off to get ready, Taylor demanding a leave time of 6am sharp. You do your best to appease him, dressing up enough to say you put effort in, but paying mind to comfort over style. You’re putting the last touches on your eye liner when Taylor barges in.

You give him a stink eye for not knocking, which he blissfully ignores as he looks over you top to bottom. He summarily declares you “Good, but not good enough” and stampedes over to raid your closet.

At this point in your cohabitation you’ve learned to just let him do his thing when he gets like this. He doesn’t let you dress yourself when you go clubbing with his friends either, the jerk. Your fashion sense is perfectly acceptable, thank-you-very-much.

He tells you you’re being assigned a bias for today based on your wardrobe as he tosses you a white and navy stripped polo shirt and some navy sweatpants with racer strips on the side. He pulls up a reference photo on your phone and tells you to accessorize while he goes to find an appropriate tie from his stash for you.

Looking at the picture of Han Jisung on your screen, you admit that the outfit is pretty close already. You decide to leave the polo’s buttons undone, grabbing a white camisole to put on under. Your accessories take a bit longer, and you can’t see the shoes to match those, but Taylor seems satisfied enough when he comes back.

He hands you a tie and a handful of pins to complete your look and begins pushing you out the door before you can even put them on properly. When you protest this he insists that the two of you are running late, despite the concert still being more than 13 hours away.

You do, in fact, make him sleep in the car. He does not appreciate this, but early morning traffic can lull even the most dutiful of soldiers to sleep. He’s somehow even more chipper than usual when he wakes up, despite being groggy and bleary-eyed.

The crowd, when the two of you arrive, isn’t as big as you were expecting it to be. With all of Taylor’s rushing, you’d expected to barely be able to see the doors. The merch booth he was so excited about isn’t even open yet, and he settles the two of you into the line to enter the venue instead of camping there.

It’s immediately obvious who the extrovert between the two of you is, Taylor’s bouncy blond head beginning to duck and weave among the small crowd as soon as you claim your spot, laughs and excited exchanges popping up wherever he stopped. You, on the other hand, stay exactly where you’d been left and fiddle around on your phone, Taylor’s clear backpack abandoned in your arms.

You’re pretty sure this is purposeful on his part. You know each other well enough by now that he’s well aware of your tendency to stay planted once you’re settled. You’re definitely being used to stake out your spot. You steal one of his granola bars as payment for your services.

An hour or so drags through, and Taylor has thoroughly befriended most of the people around you. Once he’s decided that it’s about time to line up for some of the merch booths, Taylor leaves you in the tender care of the other fans as he goes to stake out a spot. He gracefully accepts both your wallet and your request of “a t-shirt and something they can sign”

The group of four people behind you, in particular, take his (only semi-joking) request of “take care of my introvert for me” seriously.

“So are you a Han bias?” One asks you as Taylor prances off. Her outfit is majority blue, little Bbokari (You can admit that the little characters charm you. You probably know their names better than the Stray Kids themselves) hair clips and keychains decorating her person.

You look down at yourself and then back up at her, almost having forgotten that you were dressed up as him. “Ah, no. Taylor, my friend, dressed me this morning. We’re here for him today. Though, he did say Han was my assigned bias today.” You laugh nervously, hoping they don’t judge your lack of knowledge.

Thankfully none of them seem discouraged by your response, giggling along with your little joke. In fact one of them, dressed head to toe in merch, seems almost excited by the prospect.

“Are you a baby Stay then?” She asks you with sparkling eyes. You wave your hands in front of yourself a bit defensively.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t go that far. I like their music when Taylor plays it around the apartment, but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom. This is actually my first k-pop experience in general.” You explain, “When I say we’re here for him, I mean I am here in total ignorance.”

Another girl, dressed in a loud assortment of colors you vaguely recognize from the music video Taylor had on loop in your living room for a week and a half when it dropped, lets out a low whistle. “Throwing you right into the deep end, huh? Hardcore.”

The group of you laugh a bit, the only guy in their group agreeing with, “Well if you’re not a fan now, you will be when you leave. Their performances are amazing, honestly.”

You absorb the gushing with an open heart, truly hoping for that to be the case. You take this opportunity to take the spotlight off of yourself.

“Oh, have you guys been to a Stray Kids concert before? It’s Taylor’s first.”

That question is the key to the floodgates, and you end up spending the next 3 and a half hours waiting for Taylor’s return (with text updates from the man himself, assuring you that he is still where he’s supposed to be) being regaled with tales of concerts, events, and comebacks past. You feel a bit like you’re getting a crash course in all things Stray Kids, phones often popping out to show you clips, fancams, and photos.

It makes you smile, feeling very included and welcomed as you occasionally pepper in a question or two to keep them going. It’s just like dinners at the apartment with Taylor, him unloading his stress through fandom, and you unloading yours through listening to his ramblings.

This is exactly why you came with him today.

Taylor makes his return loaded down with goodies both purchased and gifted by other fans, to which you welcome him by cheering loudly. This triggers your new group to do the same. Somehow, the five of you cheering leads to a large portion of the early crowd, which had grown by the hour, cheering with you.

You feel a bit shy at the power you apparently hold, and laugh about it with your new friends.

Eventually Taylor and Merch Girl (you hadn’t managed to catch any of their names, you realize belatedly. It’d be too awkward to ask now. You resolve to simply Not Address Them) split off to do more rounds among other fans, distributing their own freebies.

You hadn’t even realized Taylor had made freebies. You’re also not sure how he found the time. Love finds a way, you suppose.

The other group’s Token Guy Friend (who will always been Token Guy to you, so sorry Token Guy) passes the conversation back to you. Not appreciated, Token Guy.

You can’t be all that mad though, as he shuffles through his bag to produce a piece of paper and a chisel-tipped sharpie. He passes the items to you with a grin.

“If you’re close to the stage you should have a sign! You might get an interaction that way!” He enthuses. The remaining girls cheer at the idea, sighing over the possibility of you getting an interaction at your very first concert.

You hold back correcting them that it’s just your first k-pop concert. You’re sure that’s what they mean anyways, as the experience so far has been quite different from your usual.

You look at the items in your hand, and then back at him. He offers to let you use his back to write on. You once again stare between his meticulous outfit and the sharpie in your hand. You are so not going to ruin someone’s day with what was supposed to be a kind gesture.

You motion for him to wait a moment and dig around in your own bag for a moment, the seat cushion Taylor had insisted you bring slapping you incessantly from where it hangs as you shuffle both your shoulder bag and Taylor’s backpack around. Eventually you manage to pull out your travel first aid kit, pulling a gauze pad from it.

You unclip the seat cushion from your bag and place it on the ground, motioning for Token Guy to kneel. He does so bemusedly.

“I’m gonna make it fancy,” You inform him, “those random calligraphy classes from high-school aren’t going to fail me today.” He makes a noise of assent and you’re crowding over his bent back, unfurling the gauze pad to make a barrier between the paper and his shirt.

He and the girls make their conversation around you as you sink into concentration. It’s very difficult to make nice, even, lines on an uneven surface like a back, and you have to keep gently slapping Token Guy’s shoulder when he laughs to remind him not to move.

Taylor and Merch Girl have returned by the time you finish your sign, Taylor laughingly cautioning any of them from breaking your concentration for anything less than Token Guy’s health. Unless they wanted to face your Wrath(tm), of course.

His advice seems to have been heeded, because by the time you tune back into the outside world you have a sign with very pretty (and most importantly - legible) calligraphy that reads:

[HAN! You’ve been assigned as my bias today! Make me fall for you?]

You even took the time to add Korean translations in smaller script beneath each line. You also take the time to admire your own foresight for laying out the gauze pad, small black marks littering it’s surface. Token Guy seems equally impressed when he looks at it, before taking the initiative to trash both it and the wrapper for you.

Merch Girl reads your sign when you proudly hold it in front of yourself and cackles.

“So that’s why he really brought you along, huh?” She teases, elbowing Taylor like they’re old friends. He has that effect on people. “She can talk to them for you if the Aussie line isn’t around.” Taylor gives a sheepish laugh and a faux-guilty shrug.

“That, and she bought the tickets. I couldn’t leave her behind if I tried.” He pokes at you as he speaks, mirth dancing in his eyes. Laughter erupts around the group as you shout your offence, making to start roughhousing with him like you do your sister.

The time passes joyously this way until the doors finally open to begin letting people in for sound check.

You’re not gonna lie, you’re already super tired and peopled out. Luckily, Taylor had clocked you flagging before even you had, and sent you to sit in “introvert time out” on your cushion in a shaded spot away from the crowd. So you could make it through sound check and the actual concert. Probably.

You and Taylor pass through security unscathed, having already eaten or trashed any snacks or drinks you’d brought with you, and having not bothered bringing much else. Both of your bags were just full of merch and freebies at this point.

Once you actually enter the venue you take the lead, dragging Taylor by the wrist to your seats. You’re actually super excited to show him the seats you’d gotten, having kept anything beyond ‘soundcheck’ a secret.

Taylor is already vibrating with excitement as you lead him to the floor seats. He’s nearly trembling as you lead him right up the center, past rows and rows of little white chairs erected for the reserved seating tickets. When you finally sit him down right in front of the thrust stage, plopping into the seat beside him with satisfaction, he turns to you with saucer-wide eyes.

“Noo...” He whispers.

“Oh, yes.” You return, blessing him with a grin and little eyebrow wiggle.

Taylor basically tackles you in a hug, almost knocking you into the person next to you, and squeals his thanks so loudly that you’re sure the entire stadium hears. When he’s done thanking you he pulls back, hands on your shoulders, with the most deadly serious eyes you had ever seen on him.

“I would die for you.” He intones lowly. You crack first, the two of you breaking into a giggle fit that was almost concerning with it’s intensity. When the two of you calm down and turn to settle and sit properly, he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Seriously,” He says, eyes soft, “You’re the best ever. You need anything from today on? I’m your guy.”

You chuckle at him, nudging him back, “Do my dishes for the next month, then.” You tease.

He rears back, hands up in joking surrender, “Woah, woah! Let’s not go that far! I meant if you needed to escape from the mob or something, not chores.” He gives an exaggerated shudder before breaking into his usual silly grin.

The two of you spend the next however long indulging in familiar banter, waving at the group of fans you’d made friends with outside when you spotted them not terribly far away, and generally recharging your batteries for the concert. Taylor eventually moves on to talking to the people around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You close your eyes for just a moment, trying to turn the lights off in your brain for a bit. You really needed the music to start soon, you were going to fall asleep.

Almost as if in answer to your prayers, the group begins trickling on stage for sound check.

To be honest, both soundcheck and the concert pass in a blur for you.

Once things kick off, you’re swept away in a wave of cheers, music, and lights. You hadn’t expected front row seats to be quite as intense as they were, but you made a note to yourself to not book such tickets for yourself in the future.

You couldn’t really handle it.

Still, Taylor seems to have the time of his life, and you manage to immerse yourself in the concert enough to shake your sign at Han when he passes by, earning yourself a wink and a cheek heart. Taylor was nearly euphoric at having caught the interaction with his phone camera.

By the time it’s over, you’re fairly sure you had a good time, but also 100% sure that you were completely overwhelmed. Taylor manages to drag you to the send off that you paid for spots at anyway. Curse his charming, sunny demeanor.

You can’t really process how it happened at this point, but you end up practically pinned to the railing of the barricade at the send-off location, separated from Taylor, and clinging to your façade of an excited fan with a white knuckled grip. You have three things on you to get signed, and a mission from Taylor to get all three scribbled on.

Your sign for Han, a ballcap Taylor had customized, and a Lee Know photocard Taylor had entrusted to you with a gravity you weren’t sure it warranted. He had, like, three of the same one.

You try to drum up the determination to see your mission through, but find it difficult to dredge up any will at all.

Time waits for no man, however, and soon enough the members begin making their way through, delivering high-fives, autographs, and aegyo as they pass through. You end up squished almost violently to the railing, ducking a bit and making yourself as small as possible as hands, phones, and items all get waved around and over you.

You’re not sure you like send-off.

There’s so many noises and sights and smells that you have a really hard time keeping track of which member is where. Plus, you’re still a lot overwhelmed from lining up before dawn and the concert itself. You’re tired, you’re cranky, and you want to go home.

At some point Lee Know must pass by you, and you must have presented the photocard properly, because you have a signed one now. That’s cool. The faster you get the requested autographs, the faster you can leave.

Bangchan spawns in front of you from the aether, from your point of view. You may be a bit more out of it than you’d like to admit. Still, you dutifully hold out your ballcap for him to sign, exchanging post-concert niceties on pure autopilot.

Because you’re not all that present at the moment, or maybe because all you’d had was your breakfast and some granola bars in the last 13 hours, you don’t hold your balance the way you should when someone shoves at you from behind. You catch yourself on the railing, but you dropped the freshly signed cap.

Bangchan kindly stoops to pick it up for you, and you thank him. A couple of things happen very quickly at that point.

1) Unlike the first two exchanges of the cap, because of the awkward and quick nature of Bangchan’s action, it is no longer being handed to you with lots of space between your hand and his.

2) You’re still being jostled around. No matter how much you brace for the impact of the bodies surrounding you, you couldn’t possibly keep totally still.

3) These two things have a consequence. Your hand brushes Chan’s as he hands you the cap.

The world stops for you for a moment, as pins and needles stab into dozens of familiar spots all across your lower abdomen. You freeze, dumb, awkward, overwhelmed smile plastered to your face as Bangchan turns away from you.

The pain isn’t that bad, really, more like a bad period cramp mixed with a sleeping limb waking up. Still, you curl your arm around your stomach, and your body bows with the motion. As if you could protect your reality from shattering and reshaping itself in front of you.

Static fills your ears and your poor, overloaded, brain throbs with the beginnings of a migraine.

Bangchan is your soulmate.

International k-pop sensation Bangchan is one of your eight soulmates.

Bangchan is part of a group with eight members.

Your soulmate is already moving away from you, your minor interaction just a footnote of his day, the tingling pain of your soulmate bond awakening probably blending in with a thousand other minor aches and pains from a very physically intense day for him.

You come back to clarity with the resolve that you’d like it to stay that way.

With a sense of urgency, you look around the crowd you’re part of, noting distinct faces and colors for the first time. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for until you spot it, and suddenly your escape plan is fully formed.

There, just a couple shoves and elbow throws away, is Blue Bbokari Girl from this morning.

You struggle your way over, people falling into the space you’d left at the railing like a pack of hyenas on fresh meat. When you reach her you the gently at her sleeve to get her attention.

She turns to you with confusion first, a bright greeting next, and finally a concerned scrunch of her brow as she takes in your hunched form.

“Hey, I’m feeling kind of sick, can you help me get out of the crowd?” You’re sure you look convincingly pathetic and weak as you plead with her. If only because you really did feel pathetic and weak at the moment.

“Oh, of course, hun! Just a moment.” She begins to crane her neck around to scan the crowd like you’d done moments prior. You feel a bit bad for interrupting her night like this, but as she calls out to someone behind her, you’re more thankful than anything.

Blue Bbokari Girl successfully gets the attention of someone you don’t recognize, and a quick summary of, “She’s sick, help her leave!” shouted over the crowd has you being passed through the crowd unmolested.

You find yourself enveloped in a chain of fans, one passing you to another, pausing, and calling on someone else to pass you to until you’ve finally stumbled free of the send-off mob.

Feeling a bit like you’d just been spat out of the maw of a great creature, you look back at the rustling crowd, now looking like it had never been disturbed at all.

The last lady who had finally freed you, an older woman with a Jiniret picket, eyes you with concern as you put you back to the nearest wall and slide down it.

“Will you be okay, sweetie?” She questions you worriedly, “Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

You smile weakly at her and assure her that you just have to get ahold of your roommate and he’d get you home safe and sound. She tries to insist on waiting with you, but you persuade her to return to the crowd with promises that you’d make your way to a bathroom or security guard once the worst of your vertigo had passed.

You watch her return with morbid fascination, amazed when she just sort of gets absorbed back into the mass of people. Almost like it ate her. You once again marvel at making it out of such a thing unscathed.

Truth be told, your stomach was only sore and tender this point, the sharp, needle-point pains long gone. Still, you take a moment to bring your knees to your chest, just breathing as you press your forehead to them. If anyone were to look at you then, you wonder what they’d think of you curled up on the floor and trembling like your dog had just died.

You hope they’d view you with kindness.

After giving yourself a moment to just feel, though you couldn’t tell anyone what you had felt, you gather yourself enough to totter to your feet and drag yourself to the nearest bathroom. You text Taylor as you go.

[Hey. Felt sick, in bathroom rn. lmk when we can leave pls?]

Perma Tag List: @mbioooo0000

[awinterrosesstuff]

Do you think Sakura surpassed her teacher Tsunade? I personally think not, mainly because Tsunade is a descendant of the Senju-Uzumaki clan and has spent quite a bit of time training. We could only say this if Sakura had some of Minato Namikaze's talent.

Hi anon !

Thank you so much for the ask. I know there's a real debate on tumblr, quora and reddit (probably twitter too, but I don't go there). Did Sakura surpass Tsunade ? It's a difficult question.

I can say for sure Naruto surpassed Jiraiya by achieving perfect sage and adding his chakra nature to the rasengan. And later, Naruto became something else when he mastered Kurama's chakra and befriended him. It's more difficult about Sasuke and Orochimaru since they don't have the same style, techniques and specializations. But it's safe to assume Sasuke became more powerful than his "master" by getting the eternal mangekyou sharingan. By the end of the manga, they at least equalled Madara and Hashirama.

But Sakura ? Kishimoto built expactations by having Kakashi & Chiyo implied she would surpass Tsunade. But... when is she supposed to do that ? When she gets the byakugo seal ? What did she do Tsunade couldn't ? Summoning Katsuyu and healing at distance ? Tsunade did. Transfering the chakra of her seal ? That's exactly what Tsunade did in the Pain arc. But if you look the other way around, what happens ?

Tsunade was able to break the susano'o twice and hitted Madara. You can't quote something similar about Sakura. She didn't even touch Madara or fight Obito. She doesn't have a feat that can compare to Tsunade's skill. Also Tsunade was cut in half and still managed to maintain the other kages alive. I'm going to state something obvious. But in this fight between the kage and Madara, Tsunade was neccessary for healing AND fighting. After Naruto got a powerup from Rikudo, was Sakura necessary to the team anymore ? Naruto was healing himself, and doing things Sakura couldn't even dream of with her ninjutsu medical.

Even in the war arc, Tsunade is more powerful and narratively more important & useful.

And the worst of it ? Being the grandchild of Hashirama has nothing to do with Tsunade's achievements. It's obvious from her fight with Madara. She didn't get his mokuton, his natural healing abilities, his sage mode or his stanima/durability. Tsunade created everything from scratch. I don't really know why her heritage is always mentionned when talking about her feats or her capabilities. Madara direspected her and called her weak for this very reason. He admitted he was wrong when she proved herself to be strong and powerful throught the technique she created. That's why she's a fucking baddass in my opinion.

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

[winwin17]

LOTR characters and how they'd handle social media:

Frodo: It's highly possible he isn't even on social media at all. Maybe on one or two platforms, mostly just to keep up with friends who are far away. Might use something like Reddit or Quora, but only engages with serious content. But sometimes he easily gets overwhelmed with depressing news and Sam has to persuade him to disconnect for a while.

Sam: He's probably on at least one social media platform because he cares about people and wants to keep up with them. Also, he likes access to informational things. But sometimes Frodo has to stop him from scrolling too much because people's rude behavior and hateful comments can get him feeling down. His photos are mainly his plants and food he's cooked up.

Merry: Uses social media moderately. Probably on more than one platform, and is willing to engage with some silly stuff as well as serious stuff, but knows how to keep a fairly healthy balance. Likes to share memes and jokes. Sometimes posts pics of whatever he's eating (because Hobbit). Also moderate selfies (he appreciates a nice look!)

Pippin: On multiple different platforms. Uses social media a good deal. Loves to chat with people all over, show off what he's doing in the Shire, and post pics with buddies he's made everywhere. Also shares a lot of memes, corny jokes, and TikToks. Lots of good natured trolling. Also so many pics of food.

Bilbo: Ok, he insists he hates it because of all the drama, but secretly he likes to keep up on the Shire tea while sitting in his chair and getting angry about stupid & petty people. Also probably uses Facebook to keep up with his Dwarf friends and Gandalf. Also a big time social media stalker.

Gandalf: Still has Facebook only and almost never uses it. Will reply to a post after it's already been up for three years. He's secretly a lot smarter about social media than he lets on, but he also kinda thinks it's absurd so he just lets people assume he doesn't know how to use it.

Aragorn: Does not use social media, does not have social media, does not care about social media. He may be compelled to create profiles once he's king, but he probably has some assistant that manages them.

Legolas: Probably uses a few social media platforms, but not excessively. More of a liker and sharer than a poster. Almost all his photos are of some plant life or beautiful view. He's probably also in some anti-racism communities (Dwarf Lives Matter or something).

Gimli: Might use one or two social media platforms. His profile pic is either his axe or a photo he got someone to take of him with his celebrity crush Galadriel. Whichever it is, it will be his profile pic forever. Follows every Dwarf who could possibly be any distant relation. Reblogs a lot, primarily short form videos and activist posts. Immediately blocks anyone who says anything bad about Galadriel.

Boromir: Rarely uses social media. Kinda likes it, but also finds it a little confusing. Leaves encouraging comments on his friends' posts, tho, and anything pro-Gondor. (One time when someone managed to post an unusually wonderful photo of Aragorn looking regal, Boromir commented: "My brother, my captain, my king!") Likes everything Faramir has posted, ever.

Faramir: Doesn't use social media much. Tries to engage in discourse sometimes, but gets fed up with people being rude and angry. Probably has posted two pics ever, one of him and Boromir, and one of him and Éowyn.

Éowyn: Also a big time social media stalker (especially when she had to figure out if that hot Dunedain was single). Mostly posts photos of her horses. Loves activist communities.

Éomer: Rarely uses social media. His posts include a couple bad selfies but mostly horses and weapons. Ends up in a lot of arguments he didn't start (or at least not intentionally).

Galadriel: Has one (1) social media account that Arwen or Celebrían probably convinced her to create and literally never uses it. Except for that one time she had to go and make her profile pic a photo of her and Celeborn because people didn't remember she was even married and kept trying to hit on her.

Arwen: Uses social media moderately. Her page includes lots of poetry and songs. Leaves sweet comments on everyone's posts. Likes to post photos of Aragorn and insists he looks good in all of them even tho he insists he looks bad in all of them. Definitely posts something romantic every anniversary.

Elrond: Does not use social media at all and never will. Laments the negative effects it has on one's mental health.

Haldir: You know that one profile that has the person's name but no posts and no profile pic and you wonder if it's even them? Yeah, that's Haldir's social media profile. He may look at it occasionally, but doesn't really care about it.

Gollum: Posts all the nassssty thingses ever, precious! Hateful comments on Frodo Baggins' page (even though Frodo blocked him a long time ago). Rude trolling on Bilbo's page (Gandalf and Elrond told Bilbo to block Gollum, but he never quite could because he finds him too amusing). So many "Lost Ring!" posts. Pics of the "nice fish" he catches. Nobody follows him.

[thisrandomstuff]

Made with love?

This, by the way, is the la remake's production value. ($150 mil)

The original cost $165 mil back then to produce. With inflation, that's like $243.25 mil...

Basically, DreamWorks were actually pretty cheap with this, so idk about made with love.

Compared to that, the little mermaid remake cost over 200 mil to make. Maleficent, a remake I actually like (as compared to the rest, mostly because it actually tries to do something with it), and one that was released in 2014, came with a budget of $180 mil.

Sure, money doesn't automatically mean love, but the la remake of HTTYD isn't Flow (which was cheaper, but then it also didn't have talking animals, and while it does look gorgeous, you can definitely see where they cut the costs a little... but I can support that, because it's an indie, ofc it wasn't going to take the same risk, or be able to take the same risks as DreamWorks can), it's not an original, indie production, it's done by a massive studio who has poured more time, money and effort than this back in the days of the actual HTTYD movies. This studio can afford it, and since it's not original, it might as well do what it takes to make it right.

They've gotten cheap lately (look at The Wild Robot and Puss In Boots: Last Wish... it looks cool, sure, but also the budgets are suspiciously low for the 2020's, esp. in the case of The Wild Robot as a large studio production that is completely original and would've required a lot of additional work because it's a new story with new characters, not a sequel), and it's hard to say whether that was because they managed to cut out the unnecessary expenses or just underpaid their animators/vfx artists (or both), and, well, if your OG movie cost even without accounting for inflation more than the remake of it... you kinda' have to wonder how much of a lie the claim of "made with love" is.

Now, there were glowing reviews some 10 or so years ago left on Quora by supposed DreamWorks employees... but, again, ten or so years ago. And these were senior staff members; newbies, freelancers, people are studios to which work might've been exported to get things done in case of a time crunch...? Those might not have been treated as well.

The OG Kung Fu Panda movie cost $194 mil in today's money (130 mil back when), and while Shrek was a lot more modest, it also kinda' shows... and Shrek 2 was produced with more than double the amount, costing $255 mil in today's money. Sure, Spirit cost $142.95 in today's money, but also it was a 2D movie with very different requirements (not that it wasn't a great movie; it was, I'm just not surprised that it didn't have as a high a budget), and it probably wouldn't have required the technological advancements that you'd think would be required for DreamWorks to put out a la remake when they don't really do live action, especially considering the CGI....

I think that explains why the dragons look dodgy and generic. They're cheap.

If made with love means "we cut corners and refused to even give actors correctly styled and coloured wigs", then yeah. The live action remake was made with love.

Otherwise, I don't think it as.

Something like Flow, was made with love. Something like the OG HTTYD was made with love. This was just made for a quick buck.

Edit: I mixed up The Wild Robot with The Good Dinosaur. I fixed it now.

[elicathebunny]

HOW TO REDUCE MALADAPTIVE DREAMING.

(suggestion post)

I have actually experienced this since the age of around 9 or 10 years and only managed to reduce and basically almost get rid of it after 5 or 6 years. I am no doctor or professional, so all of this is just by experience mixed with online research.

WHAT IS MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAMING?

Maladaptive daydreaming is a mental health issue that causes a person to lose themselves in complex daydreams. These daydreams are usually a coping mechanism for other mental health conditions or circumstances. It's common — but not required — for people who have this to have a history of childhood trauma or abuse.

SYMPTOMS:

Extensive, sometimes compulsive, absorption in fantasy for several hours a day

Inability to stop daydreaming

Having very detailed fantasies, including plot lines and characters

Having real-life reactions to fantasies, like facial expressions, body movements, or verbalizations

Difficulty concentrating or focusing on other things

Sleep problems (especially falling asleep)

Replacing human interaction

The urge to continue fantasizing when interrupted

In some cases, maladaptive daydreaming can also be characterized by the need for additional stimulation, which can be expressed through extensive book-reading, watching films, or gaming.

TRIGGERS:

some of the triggers may include listening to music on headphones, watching movies, and hearing specific conversation topics.

In addition to processing trauma, other causes of maladaptive daydreaming include:

Wish fulfillment

Entertainment (regulating boredom or isolation)

Regulating distress

MY EXPERIENCE: I would spend hours upon hours with storylines that I have had for years. Those stories gave me comfort and I would get lost in the experience of daydreaming. I would even put on music to put myself deeper in my thoughts and would get irritated if someone ruined my thought process by speaking to me. I realised it was a problem when I began to randomly fall into my daydreams without much control. Simple thinking turned into detailed storylines and I would constantly seem lost in thought and lose track of time. This obviously isn't helpful when you have important things to do when you need to focus. I would try to stop daydreaming but would always catch myself doing it because it become normal to me. All the characters and scenarios in my head represented me parts of me that I wish I was in real life, or even things I wanted to happen in my life. Sometimes the dreams happened so frequently that I couldn't differentiate between my memories and dreams. Before I acknowledged it as a problem I never actually wanted to get rid of it, such a big part of me would be lost. I had been daydreaming for such a long time that I became emotionally attached to the characters I had made.

WHAT HELPED ME:

Doing things that take up a lot of brain power and time: e.g. Doing a workout, Dancing, or Solving a difficult equation.

This gives you 0 time to even think about anything, let alone daydream. Go out with your friends, and force yourself into situations that require you to use your full attention. Because I never really went out much or did anything frequent enough to take up my day, I had too much time to myself and became stuck in my own head. Doing things and picking up extracurriculars, ANYTHING will help.

Because I am no longer at home as much as I used to and interact/learn new skills much more than I did before. I simply do not have time to be in my own head, I forced myself to learn to get out of my head and achieve the things I would daydream about.

I am now engaging in improving myself instead of dreaming about the version of myself/life I wanted so badly. Those dreams and characters were just glamorised versions of deep-rooted emotions I had left without facing them. Uncovering the true meaning of why I daydream and the details of the things I was daydreaming about will help you get out of the daze.

NOTES I'VE FOUND ON QUORA:

ONE:

Open up. Speak about it to others. Express yourself. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You need not share your daydreams, just share that you daydream. It's okay.

Write your daydreams down, or type them out… whatever. Get them out of you to have a better look. They are trying to tell you something about yourself. Have you ever noticed that you can't completely control your daydreams? And when you do try to change something critical in your plot it just doesn't “feel right”?

Boil them down to mere feelings. Strip away all the illusory layers of good looks, grand mansions, heroic acts and so on. The truth lies in key moments where the characters feel something deeply for each other. Find those feelings, and question the difference between you and your characters. Ask what is blocking you from experiencing them for yourself.

Realize that you are the reality, not your characters. If you imagine a nobleman or a beautiful girl, it is your nobility and beauty that you impart to those. All your characters are merely objects animated by the light of your imagination and feelings.

Understand that all your daydreams have nothing to do with others, and everything to do with you, and your relationship with yourself. When you realize this, you stop comparing them with your real-world relationships and start relating them to various aspects of yourself.

Know that when you successfully come out of this, you will actually not lose the ability to daydream or run out of feelings to pour into your imagination. It is just that their purpose will have been served, and you will not resort to daydreaming again out of lack or compulsion. You may at any point daydream again and even use it as a tool to know what your Soul is trying to tell you. Yet, you will realize that a moment of self-awareness is more rewarding than a lifetime of daydreams.

TWO:

Here are some serious tips to avoid them:

First of all, make sure you really want to get rid of this, because a lot of MDers get emotionally attached to their imaginary characters.

Disable /avoid the triggers. Block YouTube if you have to. Those websites you visit. The images saved on your computer - delete them. Plenty of apps for that.

This might be rude, but start avoiding the topics or the friends who keep discussing these topics.

Get busy doing something else - take up a hobby, meet new people. Try to stay in public places or with other people. Plenty to do in life other than dreaming.

Avoid that one music/ song that acts as a trigger.

DO I STILL MD? Yea sometimes, but now It is an okay amount. It doesn't consume my life anymore.

[wonjnz]

love, like it always has been

₊˚⊹ summary: gyuvin sets out to defeat some old white man's quora answer about love.

₊˚⊹ genre: fluff, best friend!gyuvin, high school!au | wc: 1k

₊˚⊹ warning(s): some swearing | inspo: —

₊˚⊹ a/n: very random slice of life moments with bsf!gyuvin so the timeline is kinda.. 😭😭 got the idea when i got sm quora emails today

whenever gyuvin wonders what love is, he thinks the amount of "expert" answers in a random quora thread about it doesn't seem to click with him.

he didn't feel some sort of fireworks when he saw you, so some doctor specializing in 'love' is automatically eliminated. and his world certainly didn't slow down when you walk in, so now a random old, white man talking about his wife of 25 years is also eliminated (though gyuvin admits it's cute).

gyuvin sighs and puts his phone down, placing his hands on both cheeks; god, this is so stupid, he thinks. if only his friends weren't the loudest speakers in school, he'd probably be ranting to them about this, but he remains determined to find out what love means to him.

ever since that night, gyuvin made it his goal that one day, he'll have the most upvotes on his quora answer and everyone will reply this is exactly what love feels like.

old white man be damned, gyuvin is going to have a more relatable answer. just watch, he thinks.

gyuvin swears he felt love when he watched you introduce yourself on the first day of school, he found it hilarious. after school, you almost cut him off from how much he teased you about it. only did he redeem himself when he willingly became your servant for 2 months, to his friends surprise (and ultimately gyuvin’s embarrassment).

and he feels it once more while you're slowly losing your mind over a chemistry assignment. the way your hair sticks out in all directions from all the times your hands kept running through in frustration, the way your eyebrows furrow when you finally get a logical answer after five grueling minutes, that's when gyuvin confirms it.

“what?” you ask, noticing how gyuvin has been awfully quiet and smiling to himself. “is my answer wrong or something?” you worry, looking back and forth from your paper to his.

he's in love.

gyuvin immediately comes back to his senses and waves you off, “it's nothing. just thought of something.” he says. to be fair, what he said wasn't much of a lie. he was thinking of you after all.

you scoff at his half-assed answer, "whatever. i'm going back to number 6." mumbling as you look back at your paper. "yeah, i'll go back too." gyuvin says, smiling amusingly at his answers (he's only done 4 questions).

“seriously, gyuvin. you're disgusting.” you laugh, pointing at the dried-up ice cream stains at the corner of his lips. "you look like you drooled or something."

gyuvin rolls his eyes, “at least wipe it off for me. both my hands are occupied.” he says while holding up his ice cream and a small plastic spoon, obviously finding a reason for you to do it. “what a loser..” you mumble before trying to find a few pieces of tissue in your backpack, putting it up to his lips to wipe the remnants off.

and gyuvin fights the urge to say “i'm in love with you,” at that moment. opting to share a few details about his day instead since he knows how you're always invested in whatever drama he manages to dig out.

damn his demons are hard to beat today, he curses to himself.

as he looks at you, eyes purely focused on his as if you're anticipating more, gyuvin's heart feels lighter than ever. he feels the slight click one quora user said in his answer, albeit very softly, to the point he might've missed it.

“that's all i have today.” gyuvin shrugs, in his defense, you were always his highlight of the day, not some random drama he heard from gunwook every lunchtime, but he can't tell you that just yet. “boring.”

he smiles amusingly, “i might have something else cool in mind though. but i don't know if you'd wanna hear it.” mentally preparing on the spot is something gyuvin wouldn't wish even on his worst enemy.

you look at him incredulously, mouth slightly agape. “what? of course i'd wanna hear it.” setting your cup of ice cream down just to show gyuvin how interested you were.

“well, i’ve liked you for quite some time and —”

"so ricky was right!"

gyuvin feels his inner demons creep up on him right after, he swears he could hear them laughing at this very moment. “..so, you knew all this time? because of ricky?” you chuckle at how quiet his voice became.

“he told me last night since he thought you were being kinda weird lately, and he knew we always go out after school, so he warned me you might confess or something.” gyuvin puts his head in his hands, whining at his now spoiled confession, “i wanted this to be cute..”

it's an understatement to say ricky and gyuvin were on bad terms for a while, though you couldn’t stand the amount of shade they kept throwing at the other, so you forced them to make up on gyuvin’s fifth day of his villain origin story against ricky.

“you know i can't kiss you right now if your breath smells like the cheeseburger you ate, gyuvin.” you point out, snickering at gyuvin's exaggerated pursed lips and dramatic reaction to your words.

“the cheeseburger you bought for me. so technically it's not my fault.” he shrugs nonchalantly, a stark contrast to how he kept whining about wanting even a small peck a minute ago.

you watch gyuvin, who's on the verge of losing his mind at the thought of at least 10 minutes with no affection, “okay, fine. i'll drink something to get that burger taste out.” he surrenders quickly to your amusement.

laughing at his defeated walk to his fridge, “not my fault you wanted takeout after studying.” you heard him mumble under his breath.

“you agreed to it!” you retort, gyuvin comes back with the iced tea he ordered along. “of course i would, why would i say no to you?” he says before drinking.

“plus, if i didn’t confess to you on a whim last week, i’d probably kiss you right now and i wouldn’t know you hate cheese breath. imagine how horrifying that would be for me.”

once he makes sure any trace of cheese in his breath is gone, he smirks at you expectingly but in reality, it's his usual goofy smile. “can you give me a kiss now?” he says, paper cup still in his hand as if it was some cliche house party scene.

“now that i think of it, cheeseburger and iced tea breath is even more disgusting.”

“oh fuck you.”

[superscrub323]

I loved the occupation answers you gave lol and had another immediately but decided to wait and not bombard your ask box-

(Hopefully this isn’t another duplicate but-) what social platforms would the gods use and how would they use it? Who wouldn’t?

Oh boy that one puts me in a bit of pickle especially since I haven't answered that one...but luckily for you I like a challenge and we're friends.

But the 14 Primary Olympians Only (and Heracles)

Zeus: He'd search on Facebook and Twitter that are dedicated to worshipping him and when people think he's trolling throw lightning bolts at their house and build a new legion of worshippers. Also he'd be on Instagram and sliding into girls...both their DMs and...you know.

Poseidon: Probably on Tumblr showing off pictures of the Mariana Trench...and also sliding into Instagram girls DMs.

Apollo (you know where this is going): All of them to make sure everyone knows and listens to his latest songs, poems, and art. Plus he'd be on every dating app and sliding into girls DMs trying to get into their panties with a respectable amount of success but there's little anyone can do if they don't want him cause he'll be after them.

Demeter: Probably on Quora and Reddit teaching farming tips and how to grow plants. Might also be a Facebook mom who cries about how her daughter doesn't visit her (unlike those moms however her complaints are actually valid and agreeable)

Hestia: Aside from keeping in touch with her Olympian families she wouldn't use it beyond looking at cozy places to give her idea for her home.

Hades: Linkedin to hire new workers to manage his realm and probably make anon accounts about how if he's the asshole about how is acquired his wife and really reconsider the terms of her agreement with Demeter and if he can change them

Hera: Upon finally learning what divorce is she'd be a Facebook mom celebrating her new found singlehood and probably on dating websites looking for a perfectly loyal man...that Zeus can't smite (good with the bad).

Ares: On Tumblr! Subscribed to this bl-*whack* OW! Okay! Okay! He'd be on Reddit mostly and hyper fixated on things related to history, wars mythological, historical, and fictional, Martial Arts and discover video games and probably really like them. I don't know why but I can see him getting into World of Warcraft and being either a Human or Orc Warrior and just...being the absolute best Warrior Player in WoW in every spec in PvP/Mythic+/Mythic Raiding etc. (Wouldn't be as good as Gold farming but that's where...)

Athena: Probably on Reddit on Greek Mythology subreddits correcting misconceptions and Tumblr and Bluesky to show off her latest weaving patterns (do not bring up Arachne she actually regrets doing it and wants to keep her divine ego in check now that ever since she listened to Apollo's statement on how babies are made she has a lot to learn and needs her ego out of it). But whenever she wants to have fun, the War God part would come out and upon finding out Ares is into WoW, play as a Human Paladin and just...dominate at it. But unlike Ares she'd be leading a Guild that would dominate the server and be raking in Gold which in turn would lead to setting up a Twitch Stream which would chronical everything...Also since there's no Golden Apples Ares would be apart of the Guild but the twitch stream would segway into...

Aphrodite: Instagram and Onlyfans...I mean you can guess why, but if there's a place where she can show off the Ontological Beauty that is her and prevent anymore Psyche incidents (she's not losing Anteros to a mortal woman) while getting paid to do it she'll be there. Also she'd get Ares to participate in the Onlyfans part and when she finds out what this WoW is and how Twitch is dominated by hot gamer girls. She'd be eager to correct the flaw of Twitch 'not having here' by signing up to WoW and join as a Blood Elf Priestess or Mage and somehow be almost as good as Ares and Athena (plus her face brings in donations and the best players which is helpful also I'm writing this while playing WoW.)

Artemis (last one that references WoW I promise, but if anyone wants to know which Olympian would play what class in WoW let me know and I'll do it: She'd be on nature blogs on Reddit and Tumblr and hunting blogs but only on conservation hunting as she'd learn what modern day trophy hunting is and probably be disgusted by it. Also she'd fall in love (no pun intended) with any AroAce blogs and find followers there (even if ever since the Aura incident she swore on the River Styx to never react hyperbolically again). Also when Artemis finds out what Ares is doing and that WoW has such a diverse range of fauna and that there's moon worshipping huntresses, she'd be a Night Elf Hunter and dominate as a Beast Master Hunter and join the guild of Athena...woe to anyone who tries to approach her for 'ERP' though.

Dionysus: Where ever there's a blog or a spot to discuss wine there's going to be Dionysus. He'll introduce ways to make Wine in a week that taste better than wine that's been aged for years. He'd probably have that charisma that would make people think he's the next Jesus Christ and start a new Baachic cult online and it would grow large (yeah finding out the soft boy who just wants a drink and to relax is actually a glorified cult leader sponsored by Zeus was almost as much of a shock as finding out that Ares doesn't bathe in the blood of those who don't respect him and go through unwilling women like college dorm socks but that's besides the point).

Hermes: Probably on Discord to chat about his many many domains as a God but I can see him being into Superheroes and video games that God fast and I can just bet he'd be into speedrunning and he'd decimate records (also I lied) also he'd join Athena's guild upon finding out what World First Raiding is, most likely as a Gnomish Rouge and push them to be World First Raiders.

Hephaestus: Oh he'd be busy on Reddit showing off his inventions and Youtube showing off the forging process of steel. Probably be happy to do so as well and probably attract investors for is inventions.

Heracles: Athletes, bodybuilding, Powerlifting, you name it he'll have a blog it. Most on Tumblr, Bluesky, and Instagram. Also I don't know why but he'd probably be into Superheroes and find friends on Reddit.

Wow! That covers them all...I think...let me check...yeah that's everyone (nearly forgot Hephaestus). Thank you for this ask it was a lot of fun.

[gorgiawrite]

CANNONS ON SAILING VESSELS (18TH CENTURY)

A typical broadside of a ship of the late 18th century could be fired 2–3 times in approximately 5 minutes, depending on the training of the crew.

FIRING PROCEDURE

A wet swab was used to mop out the interior of the barrel, extinguishing any embers from a previous firing which might set off the next charge of gunpowder prematurely.

Gunpowder (either loose, in a cloth or in a parchment cartridge) was placed in the barrel followed by a cloth wad, then rammed home.

The shot was rammed in, followed by another wad to prevent the cannonball from rolling out of the barrel if the muzzle was depressed.

The gun in its carriage was then 'run out' ; men heaved on the gun tackles until the front of the gun carriage was hard up against the ship's bulwark, the barrel protruding out of the gun port.

The touch hole in the rear (breech) of the cannon was primed with finer gunpowder (priming powder), then ignited.

A lite linstock was applied to the touch-hole of the gun to fire the cannon.

Firing a naval cannon required a great amount of labour and manpower. (x)

GUNNER'S TOOLS

From Artillery Through the Ages by Albert Manucy (x)

The sponge, moistened with water, extinguished sparks in the bore after firing.

The worm cleaned unburned fragments of cloth powder bags from the bore.

Ladles were originally used to load powder; after cartridge bags came into use, they were used to extract loads from muzzle-loaders without firing.

The rammer sealed cartridge and ball in place.

The scraper and searchers were used to clean the gun and to find damaged spots in the bore.

The handspike helped to move the gun carriage and to raise the gun breech so the wedge-shaped quoin could be moved to adjust the gun's elevation.

The gunner's pick or priming wire pierced the powder bag to make sure that the flame of the primer would ignite the powder charge.

The tompion kept the bore dry while the gun was not in use.

Rigging of carriage gun (x)

CANNONS ON SHIPS

« These cannons, the heart of a warship’s offensive capability, were mounted on wooden carriages that allowed them to recoil when fired. The carriages themselves were secured to the ship’s deck using strong ropes or breechings. This setup allowed the cannons to be moved and aimed, while also ensuring they didn’t break loose in rough seas or during the heat of battle.

The ropes were attached to ringbolts set into the deck or the ship’s sides, and the tension could be adjusted to manage the cannon’s recoil. This was critical, as the force of firing a cannon was immense, and without proper securing, the cannon could become a deadly projectile within the ship itself. The ropes also allowed the cannons to be pulled back into position after firing, ready for the next round.

In addition to the ropes, wooden wedges called quoins were used to adjust the cannon’s elevation. These wedges were placed under the breech, the rear part of the cannon, allowing the crew to aim the cannonball’s trajectory for different ranges. »

[information above from a contribution on quora]

The powerful recoil is the reason the guns were fired one after the other instead of all at once. Otherwise, the pressure on the hull of the ship (where the cannons are attached) would be too great.

CANNONS CALIBRES

18 pounder gun, aboard the Man o' War (Black Sails)

Common sizes were 42-pounders, 36-pounders, 32-pounders, 24-pounders, 18-pounders, 12-pounders, 9-pounders, 8-pounders, 6-pounders, and various smaller calibres.

« The distance or range of a gun varied tremendously by the size of the ball and the amount of powder used to propel it. This proved to be very dangerous work for gun crews as cannon did explode (fail), showering the crew with deadly metal shards. The amount of powder often varied from 1/4 to 1/3 the weight of the projectile in pounds. »

« A 12 pounder gun might use 4 pounds of powder and fire 1000 yards. The timbers of a warship could not be appreciably damaged by anything smaller than a 12 pounder. »

[information above from a contribution on quora]

Where a small ship might be armed with 6-pounders (guns which threw a 6-pound shot), a large ship-of-the-line, the battleship of her day, mounted guns firing shot of as much as 32 pounds in weight.

GUN CREWS

Gun is in its recoil position for loading (x)

The officer's rank of Gunner was one responsible for all the cannons aboard the ship, as well as their maintenance and upkeep. He was also in charge of the powder magazine. Gunners had oversight over all the gun captains and gun crews.

Every shipboard cannon was operated by gun crews of 5 men*, including their leader, the gun captain. In battle, the gun crews would reload and position the cannon, while the gun-captain would adjust their aim appropriately and fire the cannon.

*An 18-pounder might have a crew of six or seven.